


anniversary

by aparticularbandit



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: F/F, roisa anniversary special yo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 19:38:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19470778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aparticularbandit/pseuds/aparticularbandit
Summary: rose and luisa try to celebrate their anniversary by returning to one of the locations from their first meeting.





	anniversary

**Author's Note:**

> because SOMEONE wanted me to write something to celebrate roisa for fourth of july.
> 
> \--and, really, there should be celebrations for this! it's their ten year anniversary! (because i assume they met in 2009 and not 2010, although i guess either is valid.)

hot, humid air beat in circles in the messy hotel room, the air conditioner broken and nothing but an overhead fan moving air that refused to cool. at first, this hadn’t hampered the festive proceedings – even with the fan, even with cool air, they would still have ended up hot and sticky, the bed discarded of all but its thin sheets – and this, at least, had prompted a return to the slippery shower (cold water) as well as buckets of ice from the machine out back, the cubes traced along delicate skin for a comfort of their own making.

now, however, exhausted and sore and curled up next to each other, the heat felt overwhelming – which was saying something, considering the island from which they’d traveled – and luisa’d begun to thread ice cold fingers through rose’s frizzy curls in an attempt to cool her hot skull.

the fan, moving slower, it seemed, than it had when they’d arrived, gave a final shuddering creak, a last gasp of humid air, and froze.

the redhead rose from where her head lay in luisa’s lap and propped herself up on the flats of her hands, sheets stuck sticky to the curve of her chest. “you’re kidding me.”

“that’s what you get for cheap hotel rooms.” luisa situated herself a little better against the headboard with a little sigh. “like my father used to say—”

“I _know_ what your father used to say.”

“— _you get what you pay for in those shit holes._ ” her fingers lifted one edge of the sheet so old it was stained with something unidentifiable and could barely be called white anymore and began to fiddle with it. “please don’t make a scene.”

“i’m not.” but rose was still looking curiously up at the fan, jaw unclenched, fingers tapping on the mattress. “if i had the proper tools, i could probably fix it.”

“they’re not going to pay you for that.”

“and you won’t let me kill them for the shitty quality of their hotel, so who’s _really_ losing here?”

luisa sighed again. “ _you’re_ the one who wanted to recreate our first meeting on the tenth anniversary of—”

she was interrupted by the sound of crackling overhead, followed by loud bangs. her brows raised as she looked up at the ceiling. rose moved from the bed, stealing the bed sheet and draping it around her, as she went to the window. “you should come look,” she murmured. “the display is amazing this year.”

“it’s amazing _every_ year.” but luisa stole from the bed to her lover’s side and watched as the sky filled with brilliant colors. she leaned her head on rose’s shoulder. “rafael might not be the best owner, but he’s outdone our father with that. dad never could get the right people.”

“i don’t think that’s rafael’s doing. i think that’s petra and the _family friendly_ new marbella brand.”

“you could be right.” luisa turned and pressed a kiss to rose’s shoulder. “i wish we could be there with them.”

rose groaned. “it’s hot enough without putting my mask back on, but if that’s _really_ what you want—”

“no,” luisa said, rubbing her finger along rose’s sweaty skin. “i just want you.” she paused for a moment. “and air conditioning.”

rose looked down at the window unit. “i could have fixed that, too, if you’d listened to me.”

“i was a little distracted.”

“so was i.” rose ran a finger along luisa’s waist and grinned when she shivered. “besides, i don’t think cold air would make you any less hot.”

luisa turned to rose with a groan. “that is _so bad_ , rose. _so bad._ ”

“you love my word play.”

“puns aren’t word play.”

“you love my puns.”

“i love your puns.”

rose ran her hand up the slope of luisa’s back, and luisa turned to face her. “let’s go back to bed.”

“it’s hot and it’s sticky and i can—”

luisa leaned up on her tip toes and shut rose’s mouth with a kiss. “i know you can fix it, but i want you in bed with me while it’s dark. just for now. please.” she tugged on the sheet still wrapped around rose’s skin, and rose obediently followed. “and no getting up while i’m asleep to get tools to fix the fan. _or the air conditioner._ ”

“ _luisa._ ”

“ _no._ ” luisa took rose’s hand tight with her own. “i don’t want to wake up without you here with me. i don’t want to think they’ve found you, and i don’t want to think—”

“i’m real, luisa.”

“i know.” luisa lowered her head and swallowed once. “please. just stay. with me.”

“fine.” rose dropped onto the bed with a huff then curled to one side, propping herself up on one elbow, and patted the spot next to her with a grin. “but if you wake up tired and hot and sweaty and miserable, that’s not my fault.”

“it _is_ your fault,” luisa murmured. “you’re the one who wanted to come here instead of going to one of the nicer hotels.” but she sat down on the bed next to rose anyway.

“and you didn’t tell me _no_.”

“well, it did seem kind of romantic. retracing our steps. kind of. like we’d been together the entire time. like—” she stopped, sighed, and shook her head. “like we weren’t hiding.”

“we’re not hiding.” rose traced luisa’s arm with her fingertips. “we’re just not visiting your family. we’re taking a vacation for ourselves. that’s healthy in a relationship.”

“is that what you and dad used to do?”

“ _stop that._ ” rose fell back against the headboard with an unenthusiastic clunk. “you know i didn’t love him.”

“of course not. we don’t kill people we love.”

“i apologized for that.”

“i know.” luisa sighed and lay back on the bed. “i’m sorry. it’s hot and i’m miserable.”

“then let me fix the fan at least.”

“no.” luisa curled up against rose, resting her head on her chest. “you’re going to stay right here with me. hot and miserable.”

“or just hot.”

“ _rose._ ”

luisa propped herself up enough to see rose’s grin and pressed a kiss to the edge of her lips. “fine. you’re hot. got it.”

“so are you.”

“that goes without saying.”

luisa laid her head on rose’s chest again, and rose dipped her fingers into the bucket of ice that was slowly turning into a tepid bucket of water. she threaded her fingers through luisa’s long hair the way luisa had with hers earlier and began to massage her skull. luisa let out a low murmur of contentment and curled closer to rose.

after a few minutes of silence, luisa turned and looked up to see rose’s eyes half-closed and occasionally flitting in the fan’s direction. but at luisa’s movement, rose glanced to her, brows raising, questioning.

“rose?”

“hm?”

“what do you think about marriage?”

rose looked up and away, eyes not completely focused as she stared off towards the opposite wall. “i think it’s a practice intended for men to own women as property and use and destroy them at their leisure, and as such, i’m fundamentally against it.” her lips pursed. “after hours spent in divorce court and years with your father—”

“my dad loved you.”

“your father—” and here rose stopped, catching the snip to her tone, and took a deep breath before letting her gaze return to the woman curled up next to her, a woman who was now looking anywhere but at her. “your father loved _you_. i was always intended to be decoration and a way to cover his ass if his art thievery was caught.”

“like he was supposed to take the fall for you.”

“yes.”

rose’s hand moved to luisa’s shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. “what was your marriage to allison like?”

“i don’t want to talk about that.”

“it wasn’t _good_ , was it?”

“i _don’t_ want to talk about it.”

“it certainly didn’t _end_ well.”

“rose.”

luisa’s tone held an edge to it, a warning sign, and rose stopped. it was the only way she really knew to stop when they had conversations like this – that knife in her voice, resting on the surface of her skin before cutting through. “i’m sorry.”

“don’t be. i brought it up.”

“it’s only that – after everything we’ve been through – marriage seems more like a chain, one that kept us apart for so long.”

“ _you_ kept us apart, rose.”

“i had a noose to contend with the chain.” rose leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to luisa’s forehead. when luisa didn’t move, she paused, considering. “is that what you want?”

“i don’t know,” luisa said, curling closer. “at the beginning, i thought this, what we have now, is what i wanted.” she looked up, briefly meeting rose’s eyes. “only without the whole crime lord in hiding on an island in the caymans and not being able to see my family business.”

“we see your family.”

“sometimes.” luisa’s eyes moved to the edge of the sheet, fingers beginning to fiddle with its edges again. “raf still doesn’t trust me.”

“rafael is very good at holding a grudge.”

“he doesn’t even know you’re you, and it’s been three years, and it feels like i’ll never get to meet my nephew or my nieces.” her lips pressed together, and she suddenly wished for the fan to be even remotely working, wished for the sound of it beating through the air, wished for the air conditioner so that she could hear the buzz of it turning on instead of this endlessly hot, sticky silence.

“you could ask petra. she probably wouldn’t mind.”

“that would feel like going behind raf’s back.”

“he’d go behind yours.”

“i know.” luisa’s voice was so soft it was barely more than a whisper, and it was even softer still when she repeated, “ i know.”

there was silence again, and rose began to run her fingers soothingly up and down luisa’s arm. despite the heat, luisa drew a little closer to her, resting her head on her chest again. after a while, rose broke the silence. “do you want to get married?”

“i don’t know.” luisa didn’t look up, her eyes focusing on the painting of two pears across the wall. “i hadn’t thought that far.”

“you must have been thinking that far to have asked.”

“not always.” luisa traced circles on rose’s stomach, around one of the marks she’d left behind. “only—”

“only?”

luisa shook her head. “i don’t know.”

rose sat in silence for a while before pressing her fingers into the bucket that was no longer cool but was only wet. “we need more ice.”

“i’ll get it.”

at the moment, it felt like she just wanted to leave the room, and after pulling on enough clothes to be suitably decent, luisa took the bucket and left. even the air outside felt better than that in their room – there was a light breeze, and the sky was dark, and sometimes she could see stars and the constellations rose had pointed out to her when they weren’t covered by smoke and dazzling lights accompanied by a shuddering boom. someone else’s celebrations stolen for their own. she dumped the water from the bucket on the ground and filled it up with more ice – another, stronger draft of cold air, and for a moment, luisa stood there, hunched over the ice machine, just to feel something other than the heat.

when she returned, the room felt stuffy, the air stifled. she held an ice cube in her hand to combat the heat.

“luisa.” rose patted the bed next to her, and luisa went, placing the bucket atop the bedside table. but as she sat, rose knelt down in front of her, the sheets draped around her like a robe. she held out one hand with the least gaudy of her rings resting on her palm.

it took a moment before luisa realized what was happening.

her heart clenched once before it relaxed in a liquidy warm sort of pool, a happiness that spread to her lips. “no,” she said.

rose blinked her bright blue eyes and her brows furrowed and her lips turned down. “i didn’t ask you yet.”

“but you were going to ask.” luisa dropped her ice cube in the bucket and then cupped rose’s face with both hands and moved down to the floor next to her, leaning forward to touch her forehead against rose’s. this close, she could see each of the freckles dusting her cheeks, the deeper blue storm at the center of rose’s pupils. “you don’t want to get married, rose.”

rose shivered at the sudden cold touch on her cheek. “you do.”

“i don’t want to get married to someone who doesn’t want to marry me.”

“i wouldn’t be asking if i didn’t want to marry you.”

luisa brushed her thumbs along rose’s cheeks, trying to find a way to help her understand. “i don’t ever want you to see me as a chain.”

“i don’t.” rose’s hands crumpled into fists, one still holding her ring, and landed on the floor. “i just want to make you happy.”

“you could make me very happy by taking me to a hotel with air conditioning next time and by not complaining that you could fix it instead of paying attention to your very needy girlfriend _and_ —” she continued, despite rose opening her mouth to try and get another word in, “—by realizing that your attempt to fix the air conditioner and the fan would be just as disastrous as when you tried to fix them in peru.”

“it’d be _easier_ here—”

“—and you’d be all covered in grease and oil and grime and sweat and you wouldn’t have been paying attention to me.”

“you could’ve joined me in the shower.”

“i did that anyway.”

rose nodded once. “true.” then she sighed and looked up. “why won’t you say yes?”

luisa paused, considering, unsure of how to put it into straight words, thumbs brushing along rose’s cheeks again. “partly because i don’t think you really mean it, and partly because i don’t want our next however many years of anniversaries to be in shitty hotels like this again.”

“next year, i’ll make sure we have air conditioning,” rose said, glancing around the room, eyes returning to luisa’s. “and i meant it. if you want to marry me, luisa, then—”

“don’t make me happy at the expense of your own happiness.”

“i’d be happy.”

“ _no_ , rose.” luisa moved one hand to take rose’s. she gave it a gentle squeeze. “but if you want, you can ask me again whenever you feel like it.”

“will you change your mind?”

“maybe. i might.” luisa softened. “you never know.” then she leaned forward and gave rose a gentle kiss. “now get back into bed with me. it’s hot – yes, i know, _we’re_ hot – and i just want to curl up with you. and some ice. now that we have ice again.”

“the ice will melt.”

luisa nodded. “but maybe i’ll be able to get to sleep before it does.” she smiled, turning back towards rose as she made it into the bed. “or we could play with it again and sleep on the submarine home.”

“or we could stay a little longer,” rose suggested as she rose from the carpeted floor and crawled back into bed next to luisa, covering them both with the thin little sheet.

“rose, i’m not staying in this hotel any longer than i have to.”

“no, i meant,” and here she took a piece of ice, placing it gently on the hollow at the base of luisa’s throat, “i can find my mask, and you can visit your brother. since we’re already here.”

luisa shivered at the sudden cold on her neck and clung to rose, pressing the ice cube between them. “i thought we were taking a vacation for ourselves.”

“we are.” rose shivered and took another cube, adding it to the small space between them. “but what would our anniversary be without frustrating relationships with your family?”

luisa couldn’t help but laugh at that, and she leaned up just enough to kiss rose again. “and the marbella has _air conditioning_.”

“yes, it does.” rose brushed her fingers through luisa’s hair. it wasn’t as soft as it normally was, too damp from the heat and from their attempts to cool off with cold water, but she knew once they found a proper hotel and they’d had a proper shower (together, of course), it would be just as soft as it always was. her fingers traced luisa’s skin as luisa wrapped one arm around her, holding her close. “you know,” she murmured, “this close together, we’re going to melt the ice faster.”

“i don’t care,” luisa said as she burrowed her head into rose’s chest. “just as long as i’m here with you.”

the fireworks continued outside for a little while longer, but by the time they’d returned to bed, the celebration at the marbella had long finished. all that remained were scattered privateers, shooting off explosives for something beautiful and decorative, not necessarily because it was beautiful but because they wanted to light something on fire and see it die. the smoke lingered a little longer than that, along with the smell of gunpowder and ash, but once that was gone, the sky cleared and the moon shone bright. some partiers, drunk and over-excited, dove into the ocean, glad to find something that was finally cool, not knowing to look for a submarine just off the coast (and certainly not remembering it in the morning if they noticed it at all).

but none of that truly mattered. only the two women curled up together in bed in the hotel room with the broken fan, trying to survive the heat with bits of ice between them, waiting for the dawn to leave the stifling room far, far behind them.


End file.
